Parading

my eye is craving it

then they continued their silent journey

The master hasn’t been among us long.

The body / puts glue on a twig and catches a bird. Glue is a tool,

no matter how one applies oneself

When I watch you dancing there is a

Recall that the universe

would that we could wake up   to what we were

How close does the dragon’s spume

Lift, wind, my exile from my eyes;